Guns Are The Loveliest Things
by Joanie Dark
Summary: X-Men: First Class. What started as insistence that a bullet can be stopped in mid-air turns to other things all together.


Erik had never stopped his nagging about the gun incident.

Try though he might, Charles couldn't seem to get his companion to back down about the fact that he "could have done it" or whatnot. It was quite ridiculous. Expecting him to shoot his friend point blank...how could Erik think he could such a thing?

Yet still, the man complained.

It had been annoying enough that between the individual training sessions of the younger mutants he would bring the fact up, attempting to egg the other man on. However, it was starting to seem damn _unusual_ when, at the dinner table that evening, Erik leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"You know," he purred (..._purred?)_ quietly, "I still do want you to do it."

"We've talked this over repeatedly," Charles sighed. "It's not truly a challenge, I can't bear to shoot you, I..."

Charles froze at the foot running along his his calf.

"Erik, I think..." Charles started, but the other man cut him off.

"It's just a simple request between..._friends_," he...yes, that was definitely a purr this time, lord, what was going on here...

"It's not exactly a typical request, and I'm not exactly certain this seems to be...ah, you _do_ realize that your foot is...well."

"Indeed I do." The smirk on his face was discomforting. Charles couldn't help but thinking how in another situation this could be seen as the come-on he had been waiting for throughout the painstaking sexual tension that they had experienced since their first meeting, but he was relatively certain that the other man was intent on having a _literal_ gun in his face. Still, the flirtatious action was enough to make Charles curious as to what was running through Erik's head. The temptation to simply read his mind was almost unbearable.

"So, Charles. Do you think that perhaps you can indulge me tonight? Perhaps in your bedroom?"

That was enough for Charles to hear.

"Perhaps...I could offer you that indulgence."

* * *

><p>Erik seemed all too excited as he pressed the gun into Charles' hand. His eyes were practically shining with glee, and all Charles could think of was how <em>awful<em> it would be if the man wound up becoming a splatter of brain matter upon the rug.

He was _not_ expecting the man to actually be insistent on his insanity.

"Are you absolutely certain about this?" Charles said, and as a response Erik raised the reluctant gun to his forehead, flashing his shark-like grin.

He sighed, closing his eyes. _Goodbye, my dear friend,_ he projected, unable to get the words out properly, and fired. A loud bang filled the room, and then silence.

Carefully he opened his eyes, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Erik still standing before him, holding the bullet in his hand, a sly expression on his face.

"Oh thank _god,_ Erik, I am _never _doing that again," Charles laughed, dropping his arm down, when Erik caught his wrist. He barely had the chance to look at his friend in confusion before he found himself locked in a violently-charged kiss. There was no complaint over the turn of events; Charles' lips parted immediately, tongue darting into the other man's open mouth, fingers not holding the gun passionately grasping at short brown hair. Several minutes passed before the two parted lips, panting.

"I _did _tell you I could do it, didn't I?" Erik asked, voice low. Charles laughed, still trying to catch his breath.

"Yes, you made your point. But really, I think that it was a foolish interlude for something far more beneficial to the two of us."

"Indeed," Erik said. Charles smiled, starting to lean in for another kiss, when Erik instead pulled the gun back up to his face.

"Erik, I just said, I'm not doing that aga-_Christ_..."

A confusing wave of mixed emotions crashed over Charles as he watched the other man's lips wrap around the barrel of the gun. On the one hand, the act was so strange and bizarre Charles wanted to whip the thing away and berate the man for acting in such an incomprehensible manner, but...it was just so damn evocative of...

A tiny moan escaped from Erik's mouth and Charles found himself utterly unable to think.

He ran his tongue lightly over the muzzle, laughing at the glazed expression on the other man's face. "Cat got your tongue, Charles?" he asked smugly, before licking along the trigger guard. The man's tongue just barely traced over the side of Charles' finger, causing him to shudder.

"E-Erik, I swear, if you make me accidentally shoot you..."

"Firing so early?" Erik chuckled, before bestowing a kiss on the top of the gun. Charles went beet red. "Relax. As certain as I am that I would be able to stop it a second time...there are no bullets left." A long lick up the right side, and then his mouth was suddenly around it again, sliding slowly up and down. Charles couldn't stop the sounds escaping from his mouth as he watched, very conscious of the growing tightness in his trousers.

A small strand of saliva broke as Erik took his mouth slowly off of the gun, looking up through his lashes at the other man's face. He looked so damn __pleased __with himself. Without really thinking, Charles ran the gun softly along Erik's cheek, and the man looked near to melting at the metallic caress.

"Is this _really_ what gets you off?" Charles asked, most of his horror at the gun incident now turned amusement.

"A man is entitled to his fetishes," Erik said calmly, then turned his face to run his mouth back over the gun. Charles swallowed hard.

"If that's the case," he said slowly, "I don't suppose that you'd mind...ah, stepping it up a notch?"

Erik looked mildly confused before dipping his mouth further over the barrel of the gun than he had before. Hearing a quiet gasp from Charles, his lips pulled into a thin smile over the metal, and he slowly started bobbing his head back and forth down to the trigger.

Charles didn't know what put the thought in his head to start pushing back, thrusting the firearm in and out of the other man's mouth in time with the motions, but judging by the muffled groans that he was emitting, Erik was more than happy at the change of pace. His free hand ran over Erik's hair, his jaw, his neck; pulled down the fabric of his turtleneck to expose his lovely throat underneath. He didn't get to see it often, as he had realized that afternoon when the man had shown up without his typical high-necked garb, but he found himself desperately wanting to suck and nip and kiss it now.

He whimpered reflexively as Erik pulled off of the gun. The man grabbed the hand off his neck, sucking on two fingers before dropping it to pull off the shirt. Erik raised his eyebrows with a grin, tossing the offending black garment aside before placing Charles' hand back on his neck and his mouth back on the gun.

Charles let his hand run down Erik's neck and over the strong muscles of his chest, biting his lip as he did so. He wanted more than _anything_ to feel that skin pressed up against his. As his hand trailed down, Erik's back arched and his groans grew louder, his tongue stretching to lap at Charles' fingers. With a grin, his hand pushed past Erik's waistband, fingers darting over the now-hardened flesh.

Erik's hands were instantly at his waist, making quick work of belt and zipper to allow the other man better access. Charles let out a tiny, breathy laugh when a loud moan escaped Erik's lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock. He pushed the gun further into Erik's mouth in time with a few long, anguishing strokes of his hand, before leaning close to his ear.

"You have two free hands, man. I think you can manage to return the favor."

No sooner than Charles had whispered the words, the Erik had cast Charles' trousers to his ankles and was deftly working his hand up and down. Charles gasped out a short string of expletives, jerking up into the other man's hand. He was honestly not sure how on earth they were going to stay standing as his knees were already feeling about ready to collapse. Erik's free hand was stroking Charles' hair as gently as the other was rough, and dear god the man was _still_ managing to service that damn handgun. He leaned against the taller man, panting, placing kissed and nips along his shoulder.

Erik was the first to come of the two of them, hips spazzaming in shallow thrusts as he let out a series of loud grunts around the barrel. Charles was quick to follow, a piercing yelp escaping his throat as he crumbled into Erik's arms. The two of them fell onto Charles' bed, the gun clattering to the floor. The two lay there, gasping for breath, stroking each other and smiling like loons.

"That took absolutely too long to happen," Charles finally managed to get out eventually, and Erik laughed.

"And to think, I had to get out the gun for it to finally happen," he chuckled, kissing the other man tenderly.

"Perhaps, once we catch our breath," Charles said, "we should continue this further?"

"That would be perfection."


End file.
